Darkness under another name
by Kelpie the Thundergod
Summary: You lie there in the dark and you feel it, the familiar impression of false security it brings in its wake. How it pushes back your memories of lighter days and makes them appear alien to you, you who are born into darkness and shall perish in it.


**Darkness under another name**

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Uh... Wolfwood-centric angst?

A/N: I blame Supernatural season finale feelings for this.

A/N: Beta provided, as always, by Celesma, thank you dear :-) All remaining mistakes are my own.

"_This is why you are darkness under another name... Nicholas, the Punisher."_

You lie there in the dark and you _feel _it, the familiar impression of false security it brings in its wake. How it pushes back your memories of lighter days and makes them appear alien to you, you who are_ born into darkness and shall perish in it_.

Yes, those were the words, weren't they? (Sounds like them, those dramatic bastards)

(Still, in silence, you have to admit that it's true)

For, even this:

_- Vash pressing you into the mattress with one hand, a force like unrelenting steel, while the other cups your face upwards towards his, a thumb caressing your cheekbone oh so very gently, and it's wrong, you don't deserve this, and it's wrong because you want it, you crave his strength and the abandonment it promises, you grip him tight while staring, wide-eyed, up into the dark -_

Even this, the both of you only dare to give in to it in the absence of light – where you can both pretend, each in his own way.

_- Vash kissing you, eyes closed, but you don't close yours, just breathe in deeper, hold on tighter -_

This, in the dark, where you can pretend the scars are desert sand underneath your nails, pretend the smiles are genuine, pretend there's no sadness and no tomorrow.

_- Vash holds you down while trying not to crush you, he's trying to get some distance between you but you won't let him, press him tight against you, hissing in his ear while he splits you open, his breath hot and irregular against the side of your neck -_

It's probably telling that neither of you speak during those times, for whatever you do, the two of you _can't _pretend your words, your promises, aren't lies.

_- Vash reaches out from where he's pinning you down, tries to lace your fingers together but you clutch the blanket instead, dig your nails into your flesh -_

It angers and disgusts you on some level, because, by nature, you aren't one for pretending (oh, the irony) – you see things as they are, no ambiguity, no sugarcoating (oh yes, you have no patience for false smiles, right?).

You hate liars and you hate hypocrisy.

What does that leave you with?

_- And you urge him on, even slap his gentle hands away at times, do it, do it now, take what you want, that's who we are, I deserve this, one day you will see and you will turn from me -_

Yeah, that's right – you hate yourself.

_God_, so very much.

But you're used to that.

You're the Punisher, and yet, one day –

but no, it will get you nowhere thinking about such things. There will be no redemption anyway.

Right?

_- And your __muscles are constricting, pain and pleasure setting nerves on fire, and still, you're staring right into it, the dark, the abyss, you can't let yourself forget – but it's one of _those _times again, where you have driven Vash past his defenses, past the iron__ control he has over himself and you can hear his ragged, raw voice saying "Nick... ahh, Nick, close, close your eyes," and then there's a hand gently covering your eyes, turning the darkness from cold black to something almost soothing, and as he takes yo__u over the edge with him, you can briefly see the light shining through the flesh protecting your eyes, from when Vash is incapable of containing who he truly is, and you feel like that light is healing you, cleaning your soul -_

It feels like redemption during that time, but as soon as the light fades, you remember.

You always shove Vash off afterwards – you don't _leave_, that'd be assholish and you're not using Vash, you refuse to – but you roll to the side, pretend (here we go again) to sleep or smoke.

And you stare, stare into the dark until it fills your heart again, because this is what will fuel your hate again, your _will_, until you'll only remember Vash's light as a weapon again and as the only way to smash the darkness you were born in, the darkness you're a part of and aim to perish in.


End file.
